


It's All Just a Cover - Part 1 - Setting the Stage

by Winchester_with_Wings



Series: It's All Just a Cover - Rockstar AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Groupie!Dean, Groupie!Sam, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rockstar AU, Rockstar!Gabriel, Rockstar!Reader, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Smut, possible implied f/f, probably won't write Sabriel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SERIES SUMMARY:<br/>The Reader is the lead singer in an eclectic cover band. Her brother Gabriel is the drummer with candy cane drumsticks. The Reader is content living the facade of a rockstar lifestyle until her brother Gabe invites Sam backstage and his brother Dean comes with and ultimately makes her reconsider who she is and what she wants. </p><p>PART ONE SUMMARY:<br/>Setting the stage. Introducing the band, Heaven's Rebellion! A cover band that plays more than one genre or artist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Just a Cover - Part 1 - Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of inspired by the movie Rockstar but really by my musical commute to work. I’ve got lots of ideas for it so I’m gonna write it in shorter(ish) parts. There will be some smut and fluff and angst. none for now though. Just setting the stage hehe ;) Also I’m still very new to fan fiction and I never thought I’d be writing a series but I’ve got plans for this one so lemme hear what you guys think.

The cloud of hairspray was enough to suffocate anyone standing behind you. That’s why the only person crazy enough to be in the room with you was your brother. Gabriel used just as much--if not more--hairspray when he decided to give himself a mullet or flock of seagulls.

“Did I miss the memo? Are we doing 80’s hair metal tonight?” he teased, pretending to choke. You sent him a sly smirk from your place in front of the mirror. You lightly touched the pompadour you’d created, making sure that it would hold and pursed your dark red lips into an exaggerated pout. You giggled when your brother--well actually stepbrother--imitated you.

You shrugged as you ran your fingers along the sides of your head where your hair was shaved into a very short buzz. All the long thick hair you possessed, which was still quite a lot, was contained in that short pompadour which kept its volume all the way down the curve of your head in a sort of round mohawk. At the nape of your neck all of that hair was teased and pulled into a low and loose pony tail. You had filled the multiple holes in your ears with shiny studs and hoops but the bottom hole on each earlobe--those first typical piercings your mom had given you before you were even old enough to speak--you put a dangly earring with colorful feathers in those two holes. With your black shirt and the choice between a denim or black leather vest and the optional headband, you were inclined to agree with Gabe.

“Maybe. I might be feeling some Bon Jovi, Twisted Sister, or Poison. What do you think?” you asked, turning in your chair to look at Gabe. He was dressed in some worn jeans and a ratty old t-shirt with several holes in it; he might as well just wear a mesh or fishnet tank top--which you know he owned--with the way that shirt was going. Your older brother was an open-minded, fun-loving, free spirit. He loved meeting and _getting it on_ with his fans. Everyone in the band at one point or another had suggested he just stop wearing a shirt altogether. Gabe always responded by saying he enjoyed the tease and only the people he chose should be able to get a look at his goods. He said it as if he actually was choosy about his bed partners but there weren’t too many people who didn’t get picked.

Although, you had noticed that he’d slowed down lately, taken his time and narrowed the pool of eligibility. You were familiar with that pool from growing up. Gabe had a type when he chose to care about his partner, whether it was a woman or man; Gabe liked tall, smart, brunettes.

His last long-term relationship had been with a woman named Kali. She was very serious compared to Gabriel’s light-hearted personality and that might’ve been why the relationship hadn’t lasted. You still hoped that he’d find someone and connect with them soon though because this rockstar lifestyle that Gabe was living wasn’t really the best look on him. On top of his constant sugar tooth, he tended to drink too much. Thankfully, he saved the drinking until after the show. (Unlike their guitarist Balthazar but he honestly sounded better when he wasn’t completely sober). At the moment, he was unwrapping a bite-size snickers bar, even though he had a sucker in his mouth. You’d given up long ago on scowling and disapproving of his eating habits.

“I think it’s a definite possibility. People seem to request 80s stuff all the time,” he answered, unusually logical. The band you and your brother had started in college had gained some popularity in the last few years. Heaven’s Rebellion mostly played covers of several bands and several genres all within each individual show which appealed to an audience of eclectic tastes. Everyone in the band had versatile voices and you, personally, had a voice which could mimic several artists or tune the song to your own vocal range.

You guys also sang original songs too but you didn’t write them. Balthazar was the poetic and romantic one. Gadreel, their bassist, was pretty good with words too. He was the one who could make sense of Balthy's gushy and or sexual musings.

Due to your popularity, Heaven's Rebellion had just finished a six month cross country tour as an opener for a more established rock band. You'd blocked out the name of the band. It had been exhausting and you were honestly happy to be back in one place. You guys had taken up a residential gig with a venue called The Bunker. It was a sizable concert venue but it also served as a bar, restaurant and just a general hang out place. People of all ages came around so their music was appreciated. Also, since starting there, you’d allowed people to request songs and if you could play it, you'd add it to the set list. But you guys usually played whatever you want because that’s what you did and the audience liked that.

"So let's start with something good. 'Pour Some Sugar On Me,' 'Paradise City'?"

"Are we watching _Rock of Ages_ in here?" Balthazar walked into the room with a cocktail in hand. "I love opening with Def Leppard. You're fucking sexy when you sing it." He winked at you and you pretended to squirm but yeah, you played up the sex appeal with that song. If you're going to be singing it, you'd need to change pants. You didn't even hesitate before slipping out of your jeans and into some leather pants. Balthazar whistled, Gabe averted his eyes.

“We haven’t even given Musical Roulette a chance though!” Gabe whined. That was the other way you came up with a set list. The whole band had put together a giant playlist on Gabe’s iPod which consisted of more than 2000 songs. You’d shuffle it from time to time and let it remind you of songs you hadn’t heard or sung in years and if it struck your fancy and the group voted on it, you’d play it.

"Oh relax, we can still shuffle the playlist but I think we should definitely open with 'Pour Some Sugar'." At that moment, Gadreel walked in. Out of the two rooms allotted to the band for use backstage, this room was the smallest and most frequented. It served as a dressing room but there was no use to locking the door.

"I agree with the opening song," he said simply. He pulled a pair of drumsticks out of his back pocket. Gabriel gasped and stretched out grabby hands. "You left these at the urinal." He tossed them through the air towards Gabe who instantly withdrew his hands with a shriek.

"Did you wash your hands?!" Balthazar and you laughed. Gabriel's drumsticks were one of his favorite possessions. They were striped like candy canes and he never ever threw them into the crowd like some drummers liked to do. You retrieved them from the ground and handed them to him.

"Shall we decide on a set list? Can we play some of my songs?" Gadreel tended to prefer the original songs...his songs.

For the next couple of minutes, the band Heaven's Rebellion played iPod Roulette and voted on a set list. You all listened to the songs, recalling the music and lyrics because you all could play from sound and memory.

Nearly five minutes from showtime, your band manager Castiel and effects designer Ash came in with the man who owned The Bunker.

Chuck was a good guy. He owned a couple more properties around town and one of them was a loft he'd rented out to you guys to live in. He was a little jittery though. For a man who owned a popular bar and concert venue, he didn't like crowds. He much preferred to stay at home reading and writing the books which he'd made his fortune off of and leave the working of the business to The Bunker's manager and bookkeeper, Metatron. You knew all of this because Chuck tended to drink too much when under the pressure for his businesses to succeed.

"Y/N, are you ready?" Castiel asked you. As the lead singer of the band, Cas gravitated towards seeing you as the leader of the band though really...he was in charge. You nodded, pressing your waxy red lips together and rubbing under one of your eyes, careful to not smudge your eyeliner. Gabriel drumrolled on the armrest of the couch.

"Showtime!"

 

* * *

 

 

The crowd was thrumming with anticipation. Dean internally and maybe also externally grimaced at the people he pushed past. Some of these people looked like they'd never be caught dead at a true rock 'n' roll concert. That's where they sorta were, right?

"Sammy, are you sure about this band?" Dean tried to shout at Sam who was leading him through the people with a strong hand wrapped around his wrist. "What if they play preppy pop music or worse...country?" The idea of a Taylor Swift cover band put a strong frown on Dean's face. Sam laughed at him, using his height to look over the crowd and lead the way.

"So what if they do? I know you like Taylor Swift," Sam replied loudly over his shoulder. That made Dean's shoulders slump forward a bit in his worn brown leather jacket. Did he really have to shout that for the world to hear? Sam finally came to a stop once there were maybe four people between them and the stage. "They play all sorts of music, Dean. I guarantee there'll be something you like."

The lights went out for maybe a minute and the whole crowd cheered and then went silent. Dean could see the silhouettes of the band come out on stage even as a light fog of dry ice settled over the stage. What had Sam said the name of the band was? Heaven's Angels? The Rebels? Dean couldn't care less the second the spotlight came on and picked out the lead singer.

Sam was right. There was something about this band that he was definitely going to like.

The music started to build and in a familiar echoing fashion, Dean heard the words, “ _Love is like a bomb…_ ”


End file.
